CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX – BIRDIE #2
I let him drag me through the house, my hair swishing sensuously around my shoulders.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the living room mirror and suddenly feel as light as a bird, my feet barely touching the floor.
I don’t just look different, I look pretty, the hair somehow softening my sharp features and putting a matching blush in my cheeks.
“Oh yeah,” Colt chuckles as we enter the sunroom and he pulls me down into the pile of cushions on the daybed. “Baggage is so pretty, even she can’t keep her eyes off her.”
I smack his shoulder. “I’m just getting used to it. I’ve never looked like this before.”
“You’re still you,” he murmurs, tossing a blanket over us and pulling me down into the curl of his arms. “Just polished and primped a little.”
“A lot,” I counter, grabbing a handful of my hair and bringing it up to my nose. “I smell like flowers.”
“You look like one, too. A pretty rose, with the personality of a bird of paradise.” He tilts his head, his eyes gleaming. “Damn, your smile hooks me every time, Baggage.”
“Why?”
He’s quiet for a moment, stroking a thumb over my cheek until he reaches the edge of my mouth. “Because for most people, smiles are cheap. They hand them out to anyone, for anything. But when I get a smile from you, I feel ten feet tall.”
I wrinkle my nose at him. “Because I’m that much of a hardass?”
“Because I know how much it costs you to share a little bit of your happiness with me,” he tells me, and my heart thuds in my chest.
How can I resist him when he says things like that?
“And I thought you were just a pretty surfer boy.”
He grins and leans forward to brush a kiss over my lips. “Don’t tell anyone or you’ll ruin my reputation.”
I smirk and turn in his arms, so I’m facing the window. And it’s definitely a view worth watching, because Hog is standing on a ladder, his forearm braced against the roof. He’s wearing a tool belt on his hips, and his flannel shirt whips around as he hammers something into the rafters.
“Hmm.” Colt murmurs into my ear. “You suddenly smell very interested in something, little bird. Has anything in particular caught your eye?”
I don’t even pretend to misunderstand his teasing. “Should he be out there in that weather? That was a lightning flash on the horizon.”
“He’s a big target, but it’d take a hurricane to knock him off his perch… Look, he’s coming in anyway.”
I watch Hog as he stows the ladder away, lashing it down with heavy rope. He turns to study the horizon for a moment, and I drink in the line of his back and shoulders. He’s not just big, he’s as strong as a bear, his flannel shirt pulled tight even when it’s unbuttoned.
Colt’s right, his packmate is a big target, and I have my sights firmly set on every inch of him.
When Hog finally comes inside, a gust of cold air slips in with him and I shiver under the blanket.
Colt’s arms tighten around me, his hand warm on my hip as his mouth skims my temple.
When Hog spots us on the daybed, he stops abruptly, his attention rooted on my hair.
A flush climbs his neck, and the heat in his skin suddenly ignites in his eyes.
“Damn, that’s pretty.” Colt hums his agreement, but Hog looks thoughtful as he rubs his beard.
“Now I definitely need to give you a knife.”
I push myself up straighter, my gaze dropping to his tool belt. “That sounds like a great idea.” I crook a finger at him. “Come here, so I can pick one out for myself.”
“Those are tools, not weapons,” Colt murmurs in my ear, but Hog is now in arms’ reach and I hook a finger through his belt. “You plan on doing a little rummaging, Baggage?”
“I know what I want,” I tell them and tug Hog the last few inches towards me. He comes without complaint, his fingers drifting over my hair like he wants to stroke it but isn’t sure if he has permission. “You can touch it,” I tell him. “It’s softer than you think.”
He hesitates a moment then pulls off his work gloves, dropping them on the floor. I watch his nostrils flare as he reaches out, his gaze locked on mine as he skims his fingers over my hair. I shiver and he makes a low sound in the back of his throat. “Like feathers,” he murmurs.
“That’s what I said,” Colt interjects, brushing his face over my hair. “Little bird is now even more irresistible.”
Hog nods, his fingers petting my hair softly, like he’s not sure if he’s being too rough. I grab his wrist, pulling him towards the daybed, but he plants his feet. “If I sit on that, I’ll break it.”
“You’re not actually carved from a boulder, big guy,” Colt tuts.
But I push the blanket back, rising onto my knees. “Then I’ll come to you,” I tell him. “I still want my knife, after all.”
Hog nods again, turning sideways so I can reach his tool belt.
I open the flap, my gaze holding his as I dip my hand inside and my fingers wrap around a leather sheath.
Something flickers in his eyes, and when I pull it out, my breath catches.
I recognize that hilt, but it can’t be… “But I lost it on the mountain.”
Hog finally sinks his fingers into my hair, gripping the strands until I lift my chin and meet his eyes. “You have no idea what it did to me to find it lying there in the snow. I was telling myself, at least she’s armed. Even if the worst happens, she’s got some protection.”
His voice is rougher than usual, and I squeeze his arm in apology. “I’m sorry. It was stupid. The whole thing…”
“You were protecting yourself.”
“I thought I was…”
His grip loosens on my hair. Panic squeezes my chest for a moment, but his scent thickens, his eyes dilating as he kicks off his boots. “Keep it close but keep me closer.”
It sounds like he’s muttering to himself more than me, but it’s definitely a philosophy I can get behind. As he crawls onto the daybed beside me, and I’m wrapped in alphas on both sides, I suddenly realize why all those glossy omegas in the magazines look so damn smug.